Stealthily across the sky
the orb of silver swims
through Elfin glades of darkened hues
from roots to swaying limbs.

Beams of brightness capture time
transfixed as moments wait
to witness hence a renaissance
as all we question wakes

What creeps from blade to violet stem
from stone to blood red flower
which hides it's face, though featureless
and lives but for an hour

as thoughts emerge we drift away
we question what is real
our dreams become realities
illusions, what we feel

through time we float, past, present tense
to dreams and to desires
we feel no ground beneath our feet
as spirits soar us higher.

yet too soon the minutes disappear
our dreams begin to fade
they lived but only for the hour
in midnight's masquerade.